The Rivet Bolter By Shane Bellingham
Chapter 1. The 14 Year tale
"When it hit it hit pretty damn hard." I Remember saying that to my grand children when they where starting school. Of course it'd be tough to describe the Great Depression in 8 words but the expressions on their faces told me they seemed to understand.
I took a look at the fire that seemed to die down a little with the passing of the night and told James to pick it back up. It was getting late but the stories some how never had an end. The kids seemed tired but still, at least on the inside, so full of energy. I took my glasses off and dried them with my hanker chief. The children's eyes appeared as intent to enjoy a good story as they ever have been before.
"well my children." I said after the smoke slowly began to rise on my father's old Chestnut pipe. "Let me tell you about my good friend Andrew Ryan."
Chapter 2.
My parents always use to tell us. "You get outa this world what you put in it." I guess after just the crossing over from Longford, Ireland the O' Connell's had something to prove. It was only after the stock market crash everyone in my family knew it wasn't enough to contribute. Now you had to provide.
I started my first job on my eleventh birthday. "This generation is too soft and lazy," my father would always say. "This crash is a sign. Maybe it'll do some good for these kids." it didn't matter to me or my seven brothers if we where shoveling behind the elephants at barmen and bailey; we had to help out any way we could. After a while it really all became such a routine. Wake up in the morning and take the train over to the kersey drug store in the city. Chicago meant you never really know who your going to meet on the morning commute. Most where Hopeful immigrants on there way out west; some old some young; some with families; some barely alive.
After the dozen or so blocks Patrick, Terry, and I set up shop out side the store. Only a Block away from the Near North Side, one of the nicest communities in town, Kersey's was prime real estate for a couple of poor shoe shiners like us. Iron barons, Oil tycoons, and even the Owner of the Chicago Cubs where frequent customers.
Only three years into it and my brothers and I started to run the show. The Godfathers use to tell us we'd make excellent business men some day.
They never noticed I was laughing under my breath as I counted the money.
One day in particular stands out to me even now on this cold night so many years later.